


Alphabet Boy

by gudlyfe2007



Series: Sundance Syndrome [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Canon Divergence, Drug Use, Gen, Implied/Referenced Incest, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Incest, M/M, Other, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rape/Non-con Elements, Schizophrenia, Shitty Family, Violence, alcoholic mother, bad parent, but iwaoi is more of a side pairing that's mentioned, comforting daichi, daisuga - Freeform, heavy drug use, iwaoi - Freeform, lying about mental illness, referenced death of suga's dad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-19
Updated: 2016-12-19
Packaged: 2018-09-09 21:58:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8914408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gudlyfe2007/pseuds/gudlyfe2007
Summary: When the sun finally dances away, children's demons come out to play. This part of the series was inspired by "Alphabet Boy" by Melanie Martinez--You're always aiming paper airplanes at me when you're aroundYou build me up like building blocks just so you can bring me downYou can crush my candy cane but you'll never catch me cryIf you dangle that diploma and I deck you, don't be surprisedI know my ABC's, yet you keep teaching meI say, fuck your degree, alphabet boyYou think you're smarter than me with all your bad poetryFuck all your ABC's, alphabet boy





	1. A Sort of Sick Benefit

**Author's Note:**

> I mean you CAN read this without reading the prior work in the series but like...it probably won't make to much sense and also I'm really too tired to put a full explanation of this horrible and (admittedly) ambiguous story, so you can also find that in chapters 1-2 titled Dollhouse. 
> 
> anywho, comments and kudos are welcome, lemme know what yall think!

Sugawara Koushi was not a suspicious person by nature. He was always one to give the people around him the benefit of the doubt. 

 

He was not suspicious when his cousin slept over at his house almost every week and insisted on sleeping in his bed, well into the boys’ teenage years. 

 

He played it off as, “well, Nagisa is probably just a little lonely and cuddling is no big deal.” He was not a paranoid person by nature. 

 

When Suga was thirteen and Nagisa was seventeen, he played the cuddling and groping off as “this is a side effect of the grief inflicted by our dads passing away.” 

 

“It’s just a weird quirk,” Suga had told his mother at fourteen. “He’ll get over it...Nagisa has always been a little different anyway.” She had nodded, but didn’t pretend to accept his answer until after giving him a long, concerned look. 

 

And then the drinking started. 

 

It was after Nagisa moved in following Suga’s dad and his brother’s brutal death at sea. 

 

“A boy such as Nagisa can’t support himself on his own,” Mom had told Suga. “It’s financially better this way.” She gripped her glass of sake tight, knuckles turning white to match the paleness of her face. “So be good to him, Koushi.” Her lips were pulled taught, but by the end of the night she was smiling once again, forgetting her and her son’s earlier exchange through her drunken haze. 

 

She had danced with her Koushi and his cousin around the living room, smelling of sake and unwashed hair. By the time the night ended, though, her mood had dipped again. 

 

Suga stood in the doorway to the kitchen, witnessing his mother passed out in a pool of vomit and spilled alcohol on the floor. His eyes stayed dry. He did not cry that night, and the boy could not explain why exactly that was. 

 

However, in the early hours of the morning something in him broke as he watched Nagisa unpack his bags upstairs. He would be sharing Suga’s room. 

 

Suga took an hour and half long shower at 4 AM, and cried the entire time. 

 

He couldn’t make up excuses for Nagisa’s actions anymore, not when he had a sobbing Suga pinned against the bedroom wall and his tongue running down his neck, interrupted by pauses to leave a hickey. 

 

He tried to wrack his brain for excuses for the next person in his life he was, for some strange, desperate reason, willing to give the benefit of the doubt. 

 

“She’s just really drunk right now, and my room is dark. There’s no way she could’ve seen and known what’s going on,” he told himself, curled up in his bed and being forcibly cuddled by Nagisa. 

 

By the third time she walked in on her son and Nagisa, Suga gave up making excuses for her too. It was a Sunday night and Nagisa was loud, easily loud enough to be heard thigh-fucking Suga over the spray of the bathroom shower. 

 

Mom had opened the door to see what the screaming was about. She did not react. She shut the door and left to drown herself in sake. 

 

\--

 

Suga was not a suspicious person by nature. 

 

By nature, he was kind and trusting and warm. He had invited his kouhais into his heart, scolded the second years when they got into trouble, and doted on his fellow third year friends when they went through a rough patch. 

 

By nature, he gave life the benefit of the doubt. 

 

Or at least he used to - but by nurture, by years of tears and sore backs and makeup covering bruises on his neck and collarbone, he was a scared, untrusting child who flinched when someone moved too fast or stood too close or breathed too loudly. 

 

By nature, it had taken him years to trust Daichi, and it was only last month he had given Asahi a hug without immediately leaving to use the bathroom with the intention of sitting in one of the stalls and crying, desperately willing himself down from a panic attack. It was only last week that he had platonically held Nishinoya and Tanaka’s hands as they belted out a silly, over dramatic version of Gangnam Style with the intention of pulling Suga out of his daze and getting him to laugh. For the first time, he did, and it wasn’t fake. 

 

It was only yesterday that he had given Hinata and Kageyama high fives without having to push down the bile rising in his throat. 

 

It was only thirty minutes ago he had decided that he could trust Tsukishima Kei, because if the lingering touches and forehead kisses and loving gazes were anything to go by, Tsukishima was in the same leaking boat as he was. 

And if the scene he had witnessed in Akiteru’s car that night was anything to go by, he was glad that he had never given the older the benefit of the doubt.


	2. I'm Right Behind You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daichi always asked permission. He always made sure Suga felt safe. 
> 
> Suga liked that. 
> 
> Daichi always wanted to know what was going on. 
> 
> Suga didn't like that.

“I’m behind you, heads up,” a voice said. Suga recognized it as Daichi’s and felt his shoulders relax almost automatically. The captain walked forward so he was standing closer to him, and asked, “Do you mind if I hold you from behind, or is tonight a bad night?” 

 

Suga thought for a moment. 

 

“It’s fine.” He needed this. He needed Daichi to rewrite his trauma, and he wanted him to start fixing his paranoia now, even as he remained in the horrible situation at home. 

 

Daichi tentatively wrapped his arms around him and Suga leaned back, sighing quietly. The taller buried his face in the crook of Suga’s neck, his silver-blond hair tickling his nose as he breathed in the scent of mint and sandalwood incense and even the remaining light sweat from practice. 

 

“You seemed off in practice again today,” Daichi said slowly. He felt Suga shrug against him before settling more comfortably in his arms, however he remained silent. “Is it the shadows again?” 

 

“It is,” he replied after a moment. 

 

“The hands?” 

 

“Yeah.” 

 

“Have you been taking your medicine, Koushi?” 

 

“I...yeah, I have.” Suga closed his eyes and saw an image of Aoba-Jousai’s captain holding his assistant’s hand in line at the pharmacy. He saw Iwaizumi holding a glass of water to his lips and gently coaxing him to swallow the pill. 

 

A pang of guilt made him shudder, and Daichi held him closer. He didn’t deserve Daichi’s love, not during or even after this horrible lie. It was just..easier this way. 

 

There were no names or faces involved - the shadows he saw and hands he felt were just hallucinations. Nothing about his home life with his alcoholic mother and sick cousin was real under this lie - it was just classic schizophrenia, classic psychotic symptoms. Just dopamine-induced paranoia. Nothing some rhisperdal couldn’t fix. 

 

“Are you cold?” Daichi asked. Suga was brought back to the current moment but not without another shiver wracking his body. “I know sometimes the side effects of antipsychotics can make people really cold.” 

 

Suga leaned his head back and laughed. “No, I’m quite alright right now. It’s mega hot outside.” He was suddenly aware of the sticky feeling where his and Daichi’s bare skin touched at the crook of his neck. There was nothing inherently sexual about the way Daichi held him, but the sensation of sweat beading on his skin forced his reflexes to turn around and push his captain away. 

 

Suga knew that Daichi thought he had covered his shock quickly enough to make his hurt inconspicuous, but he caught on to it. Guilt bled down his heart like icy water and made his veins cold with shame. 

 

Daichi regained his composure immediately and offered, “Why don’t you and I take a drive to Starbucks across town and get some iced coffee?” 

 

Suga smiled apologetically. “I can’t. I have to get home soon to cook dinner for Mom and Nagisa.” 

 

“Can’t they cook their own dinner?” 

 

“Ahah...I wish. But unfortunately about six out of the seven days of the week dinner duty falls on me.” 

 

“You do a lot for them, Koushi.” 

 

Suga looked away, unresponsive to Daichi’s comment. 

 

“I wish they did the same for you.” 

 

“Me too,” he muttered at last.


	3. How Was Your Day Mother?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Suga had too boiling pots - one at home taking care of Haruhi and bending over for Nagisa, and one hiding his glass life from Daichi and his teammates. He'd rather have neither pot, but because of the happenstance it was impossible to have one with out the other.

“I can’t feel the floor. Pad Thai microwave noodles. Left side of the freezer, below the fridge,” Haruhi drawled. 

 

“Hi, Koushi, how was school today?” Suga muttered bitterly, slamming the door behind him. “Oh, it was fantastic mom! I had so much fun flinching away from my friends and throwing up in the bathroom because someone breathed too loud next to me in class!” he mocked. 

 

“No floor. Meal. Freezer. Now, Koushi.” 

 

Suga rolled his eyes but fulfilled her request anyway. “Wow, that sounds like so much fun, Koushi! What did you do in volleyball practice today?” He popped open the microwave and shoved the frozen meal in. “I panicked through the entire hour and a half because I look forward /so much/ to coming home and doting on an alcoholic mother as I wait for my cousin to get off work and spend the next three hours raping me, mom!” 

 

The microwave beeped, signaling the end of the food’s preparation. Suga practically threw down the plastic plate in front of Haruhi. “How was your fucking day, /mother/?” he spat. Haruhi held her head in his greasy hands, cheeks sallow and unwashed, clumping hair a stinking mess all the way down her back. 

 

“It’s not easy to see you like this, Koushi,” she whispered. 

 

“Then fucking do something about it,” he snarled, stalking away. 

 

“I’m on my deathbed, Koushi, please. Please try to understand.” Haruhi lost interest in the meal she had requested almost immediately, favoring her pipe instead. Suga spun around as the smell of chemicals filled the dark living room. That wasn’t weed. 

 

“That’s not weed mom - what the /fuck/ is that?” he pushed his way through the piles of junk lying in the hallway to confront his mother. He covered his nose and sneered at the acidic stench. “Is that - is that -? Where the fuck did you get this, mother?!” 

 

Suga ripped the now bubbling pipe out of her hand, burning his palm. “You know what? I don’t care. I don’t fucking care.” He threw the item across the room and added a dent to the already crumbling drywall-revealing wall. 

 

But he noticed something as he reentered the kitchen to make himself food to eat. The dishes weren’t done. 

 

Nagisa /always/ does the previous night’s dishes before he leaves for work at noon. This could mean either two things: Nagisa was upstairs in their bedroom, terribly hungover or still drunk, or he left earlier in the day and wasn’t home. One scenario made his blood turn to ice and raised fear-induced goosebumps on his body, the other scenario made his heart leap. 

 

“Mom.” Suga’s tone changed as he approached her. “Where’s Nagisa?” 

 

“Went out for a business trip. Took a train to Tokyo. Fuck, he said he left a text message for you, Koushi,” she replied. 

 

Suga whipped out his phone and checked his messages. Sure enough, there was an unopened one from Nagisa that appeared to explain his absence.

 

He was indeed gone for an (admittedly unusual) weekend business trip, and Suga’s spirits rose with the prospect of freedom, even if it was only for two days. 

 

There was also an unopened text from Daichi. 

 

From: Daichi

Received 6:42 PM

 

Sorry you’ve been having a rough time with your symptoms lately, but if you’re free after dinner maybe you still wanna take me up on that Starbucks offer? Call me when you can, I worry about you, Koushi. You can talk to me whenever. Seriously. 

 

Suga’s heart fluttered in his chest and without an explanation to his mom he bounded upstairs to change, grab his bag and call Daichi to let him know he’d meet him at Starbucks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> end of part two. comments and kudos my dudes - they're what keeps me going. 
> 
> hope you enjoyed, and let me know if yall are interested in the next part about Oikawa!!


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